Growing Up
by QuantamTheory
Summary: Three-year old Kid is changing and it's a bittersweet moment for his parents. Written for Death the Kid Week 2016; prompt was "Growing Up"


**A/N:** Rated T for some cussing. There is a very mild manga spoiler in this chapter. Like if you literally know *nothing* about the manga it might be a tiny surprise.

Also, my fellow Discworld fans may recognize somebody :)

* * *

"You need to see something." she said without preamble.

Lord Death looked up, instantly concerned. When his wife sounded like that she meant business.

What's wrong?"

"I have a surprise for you!"

The gaiety in her voice sounded forced, which worried him. She didn't often burst into his office without checking to see who else might be inside, so it must be important. She certainly wasn't in the habit of doing it in a perky pink track suit and windblown hair, so it must not be work-related. Domestic issue, then.

He eyed her warily, "Is it a _good_ surprise?"

Sophie's surprises had an equal chance of being fabulous or horrifying. Sometimes both. He'd never forget March 12, 1842 for instance. In the space of four hours, she'd produced a signed diplomatic accord, a display of sexy lingerie, an 85 pound bull mastiff and the severed hand of would-be assassin. She'd flapped the latter at him dismissively when he expressed his concerns over her having had the back wall of the house torn down that morning. She kept him on his toes and he loved that about her. It also scared the shit out of him.

She gave him a brief, somewhat humorless smile, "Good surprise. At least _you'll_ think so."

On that ominous note she turned and disappeared, leaving him to wonder why on earth she was wearing pants with "Juicy" emblazoned across the ass*. He appreciated the sentiment, but felt that "pert" would better describe his wife's rear assets. He was still puzzling over it when she returned, accompanied by their three year old son.

"Show Daddy what you found." she said encouragingly, putting her arm around the little boy. Kid held one hand closed over the other and was looking slightly worried. Death stepped around his desk and knelt on the rug beside him.

"Whatcha got there, Kiddo?" he asked, "Can I see?"

The little boy nodded emphatically and opened his cupped hands. Floating just above his chubby palm was a tiny blue soul. Death's eyes shot to his wife's. Now he understood.

"I found it!" Kid said proudly, "Maman said you would like it. Do you like it, Daddy?"

"I do. Very much. Where did you get it?"

Relief washed across the little face. "From a bird. By my swing. It came _out_ of the bird, and I picked it right up!"

"The bird was dead, right?" Death asked, hoping like hell the answer was yes. To his knowledge this was the first soul the boy had ever seen. If he had, even unwittingly, plucked the it from a living thing, this was going to be a very hard lesson indeed.

"Yep."

He felt relief wash over him as he asked, "Did that scare you?"

"Nu-uh. Dead things don't scare me. Dead is our _family business_." Kid repeated his father's teachings proudly. He clasped his hands tightly around the soul again and wiggled excitedly in his mother's embrace. Sophie gently loosened his grip.

"Don't hold it too tight, mon précieux," she instructed, "Remember what Maman said?"

"To be very gentle."

Lord Death ruffled his son's hair.

"That's right. And now we have to do something for it."

"Feed it?" Kid suggested. "I have bread!"

Lord Death didn't doubt it. The child was currently obsessed with feeding the ducks in the pond and he usually had a slice or two secreted somewhere on his small person. His current nanny, Death's rebellious great-niece Susan, claimed she emptied a pound of crumbs out of his pockets each evening and threatened to make him eat them. He wondered what kind of violence the girl might promise on a charge she _wasn't_ related to.

"No, it doesn't eat." He moved a little closer and laid his arm over Kid's shoulder. His hand rested over his wife's and he felt her grip it tightly, "We have to set it free."

"We give it back to the bird?"

"No, Kiddo." his mother said softly, " This is the bird's soul and it came out when she died. Once the soul comes out, we _never_ put it back in. We take care of it, instead."

"How?"

"Daddy will show you," Sophie let go of her husband's hand and released their son to him. Death gave her a tender look as she scooted back. She returned it, but her lips were compressed and as white as the knuckles on her clenched fists. He found it unbearable to look at her and turned his attention back to Kid.

"Here, let go of the soul, Kiddo." he said. When Kid did, the soul sprang up and floated in front of their eyes.

"Now do like this." Death extended his pointer and pinky, thumb folded over the remaining fingers. Kid tried a few times and then shook his head in disgust.

"My hands don't _do_ that." he announced.

"Sure they do. Here, I'll help you." Lord Death put the little fingers into position, "Now put your arm on Daddy's."

Big yellow eyes looked trustingly into his, "What next?"

Lord Death took a deep breath, "Now you concentrate. Look at the soul real hard and think about making it come to you."

Kid scrunched his nose and lower lip in concentration, which would have been funny if the situation weren't so serious. The tiny soul wavered and then inched toward him.

"That's it!" Lord Death couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice, "Imagine it coming close. Right into you. Go easy, now..."

"Do I grab it?"

"No, don't grab. I want you to think about it going right inside you. Suck it right up the way the vacuum cleaner sucks up dirt."

He cringed inwardly at the analogy. This was a _soul_ he was talking about, but Kid was little more than a human baby at this point. The instructions that he'd given to Sophie and Asura would be incomprehensible to a toddler. Besides, Kid _loved_ the vacuum cleaner.

Lord Death saw a tiny burst of sparks around the boy's fingers, and they trembled on top of his. He felt a sharp little pinch as Kid tapped into his energy and the bird's soul shot forward. The sparks turned into a small purple cloud that coalesced around the tiny blue orb. There was a flash of light and the energy disappeared, along with the soul. Behind them, Death heard Sophie inhale sharply.

Kid's eyes went wide.

"Where'd it go?" he asked, staring at his own hand in wonder, "What happened?"

He looked confused and more than a little frightened. Lord Death's heart and arms went out to him.

"That was your very first Reap." he said proudly, hugging the small body with joyful protectiveness. This was one of those moments he'd prize forever; one of the best in his long, long life.

"It was?"

"Yes, and you did a very good job. 'Atta boy, Kiddo!" Lord Death rolled onto his back and held his son up in air, feeling victorious.

They laughed together until Death set him down. Then Kid looked from his father to his mother and back again.

"If I did good, why is Maman looking sad?"

Sophie scootched forward and wrapped her arms around the only two people she'd ever really cared about.

"Because we're so, so proud of you. And because we love you so much. Sometimes grownups act funny when they're this happy. When _you_ grow up, you're going to be a great Reaper just like Daddy."

She kissed the soft, striped hair beneath her lips. Kid struggled in his parents' arms, far too excited to sit still any longer.

"Can I go tell Susan? She's in the kitchen with Nadine, pretending she doesn't want to lick the chocolate cake bowl."

"Yep, go on." Lord Death said. Kid galloped to the door and then stopped.

"Did you know that if you go up behind Nadine and yell very loud she says, dammittohell and waves the cleaver at you? Did you ever do that, Daddy?"

"I most certainly have not." said Lord Death who, like almost everyone else in the house, was slightly afraid of The Gallows' chef.

Kid's mother wagged her finger at him, "That's not a kind thing to do. Now that you're getting so grown up you need to act like the little gentleman you are."

"'Kay," Kid acquiesced, "Besides, if I scare her she might not let me lick the beaters. Susan gets the bowl, but _I_ get the beaters. _And_ the spatula."

He ran out on sturdy little legs and Sophie buried her face in her husband's shoulder.

"I'm not ready for this." she mumbled in a voice somewhere between grief and petulant anger.

Death stroked her pale hair, "Soph, you knew this was going to happen sometime. He's a Reaper."

"We tried for seventy years to have him, and he'll live for a thousand. Why should he be little and untroubled for only three of those years? I thought I'd have more time. That he might be my baby a little longer."

"He'll always be your baby, honey."

She pulled back and looked up at him with fire in her golden eyes, "No. I helped make his body, but his soul is all yours. I was made a Reaper, not born. I'm just a glorified human. He's you _inside_."

"Nature and nurture are equally powerful. His soul is his own, and so is his mind. Your humanity makes me a better Reaper and it will do the same for Kid." Death kissed his wife gently, "Will do _more_ for him, because there's nothing on earth stronger than mother-love."

Sophie kissed him back, hard. He knew she wasn't doing it out of pure passion at the moment, but he didn't mind. Even the worst kiss from her was nothing less than glorious, and if she wanted to take her overwrought emotions out on him in this way, well, he was all for it.

"I'm not going to the cocktail party tonight." she announced when they parted, "I'm staying upstairs with him."

He tried to protest but she cut him off.

"What if he sees another soul? He needs to be watched closely for a while. You can handle that ambassador by yourself." She was grasping at straws, and he knew it.

"Susan can-"

"No. _I_ want to. Besides, as much as I adore her, Susan is a little too no-nonsense for this kind of training. I'm going to be with our son tonight, and that's final. We have a social secretary, two personal secretaries and a housekeeper who ought to be perfectly capable. If they're not, and I have to go to that party, I will raise hell like you've never seen." Sophie's eyes narrowed dangerously. Death knew what kind of hell his wife was capable of raising, but it was the glitter of tears behind the threat that really frightened him.

"You're right," he said, snuggling her against him, "And as soon as I can get all the boring assholes out of the house, I'll come up and sit with him too."

"I'm _always_ right."

The man with the power of life and death across the world nodded obediently.

"Yes, dear."

* * *

Did you figure out who Susan is? Homage to the great Terry Pratchett must be paid occasionally, and according to Atsushi Ohkubo, he was one the major influence on the design and personalities of certain characters in Soul Eater. My little headcanon is shared by RaetElgnis, who did these amazing fanart works:

raetelgnis . deviantart art / fitting-423529183

raetelgnis . deviantart art / Bedtime-Story-409849497

*In my universe, this story takes place some time in 2002, which explains why Sophie is wearing one of those ubiquitous early-2000's pink Juicy Couture tracksuits (probably with hoop earrings and platform flip-flops). I hear they're making a comeback, along with flared jeans *killz self*


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